


something next to normal

by nevernevergirl



Series: the war is over and we are beginning [5]
Category: Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: College, F/M, Gen, Post-Canon, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24185782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevernevergirl/pseuds/nevernevergirl
Summary: As it turns out, taking a gap year because your parents joined an alien murder cult and then you spent six months in hell fighting a witch with dictatorial ambitions doesn't adequately prepare you for the average college freshman experience.Gert and Chase go to school and try to make friends.
Relationships: Chase Stein/Gertrude Yorkes
Series: the war is over and we are beginning [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685389
Comments: 11
Kudos: 80





	something next to normal

**Author's Note:**

> From the tumblr prompt: "post-canon gertchase meeting new people/making new friends? i love the runaway's friendship but the idea of gert and chase freaking new people out with their crazy lives and re-learning how to have normal relationships is really interesting to me."
> 
> This took over a month because I kept changing my mind on how I wanted to do this, and not gonna lie, this is super indulgent—I love Outsider POV, and this was a fun excuse to drop in a bunch of marvel teens. Assume it's a 616/mcu hybrid? there are no rules here! does anyone else have powers outside of the runaways canon? who knows! assume whatever you'd like! 
> 
> Makes a few references to my other post-canon fics, but can definitely be read alone.

Betty Brant's roommate is, quite possibly, a cryptid.

She's not being fair; Gert's pretty cool. She’s just….elusive.

She'd tried to Instagram stalk when they'd gotten their roommate assignments, but @riotgrrt's only posted a handful of times over the past couple of years, and her twitter’s, like. Entirely political retweets. Which is totally cool! But only, like, two-dimensionally informative. She’d sent her a DM, asking if she wanted to coordinate dorm decorations, but after two weeks of no response, Betty’s mom had gotten impatient and dragged her to Target without Gert’s input. Another two weeks later, Gert had messaged _oh shit sry just saw this! I can bring a tv!_

Move-in day had been fine. They hadn’t _talked_ , really, before being thrown into living together for _a whole school year_ , and all Betty could think of to say was _I like your hair_ , but then Gert had complimented her converse just as awkwardly, and it was sort of okay from there? Gert was smart, and funny, and she came with a beefcake MIT-bound boyfriend who had lofted both of their beds for them, which was _great_ because Betty’s dad had been taking forever to figure it out.

Then, Betty’s mom had invited them out for pizza, and told them they were welcome to invite their parents. They’d both sort of shut down then, and muttered something about making another trip to Target for under the bed storage. Gert hadn’t shown back up until the next morning, shoe rack in tow.

“My boyfriend’s renting a place halfway between here and Cambridge,” Gert had explained. “It was late by time we got done setting up his bed. Fucking Ikea, right?”

Halfway to Cambridge is, apparently, 45 minutes away. Gert spends, like, 5 nights a week over there on average; Betty’s pretty sure it would be more, if she didn’t have an early class the other two days. It’s a little intense, if you ask Betty, but hey, no judgement on the reason why she basically has a single. And honestly? She feels a little bad about it, but Gert basically not existing is the first inside joke their floor has, and being in on that is a pretty good icebreaker.

When Betty invites her to romcom night at Cassie and Kate’s a month into the school year, it’s that she doesn’t _want_ Gert to come. She just sort of figures it’s more of a formality.

Instead, Gert bites her lip and shuts her Intro to Cultural Anthropology textbook.

“Yeah. That sounds cool,” she nods. “Um. Which one’s Kate?

Betty tries not to laugh. “Purple streak in her hair. You can bond over hair dye. It’ll be fun.”

It _is_ fun. Gert’s a little awkward at first, but it turns out that she can recite Julia Stiles’ entire monologue from the end of 10 Things I Hate About You, and she fits in sort of perfectly. It’s like having a normal roommate experience for once, and Gert seems like she’s having a good time, too.

Except, at 1 am, halfway through She’s the Man, Gert sort of spaces out, like she’s trying to listen to something far away. Then she tenses for a moment before bolting out of the room, muttering something about a migraine. When Betty gets up to pee five minutes later, she can hear Gert on the phone in their room.

“Don’t bullshit me,” Gert’s snapping at whoever’s on the other line. “I know you had a nightmare. Lace just told me.”

Betty wrinkles her nose, trying to remember if Gert had been texting anyone before she got all weird.

“No,” Gert says, tapping her foot impatiently. “She is _not_ a narc, she’s concerned for your well-being! Whatever, I’m coming over. No, it’s fine, I’ll come up with something. Yes, I’m _sure_.”

When she hurries out of their room a moment later, she’s got an overnight bag flung over her shoulder. She startles a little when she sees Betty.

“Uh. Thought you had a migraine.”

“What?” Gert says, distractedly.

“You just left movie night,” Betty says, slowly. “You said you were sick?”

“Oh, um. Yeah. Sort of?” she shifts a little, almost nervously. “My head hurts. And also, um. My boyfriend called? He needs my help. With our cat. Tell Cassie and Kate I had fun, though!”

“Your cat,” Betty says, slowly.

“Yep.” Gert grips the strap of her bag. “I’ll, um. Be at Chase’s for the weekend, probably. To help. With the cat.”

“Chase?” Betty blinks, confusedly. “Oh! Beefcake Boyfriend.”

Oh holy shit she just said that outloud. Gert stares for a moment before bursting out into laughter.

“Please, _please_ call him that to his face,” she says, as she walks away.

“Pretty sure I’ll never get the chance,” Betty mutters.

There’s this kid who hangs out in the bleachers during lacrosse practice every Thursday afternoon. David didn’t think any of it the first couple of times; he sort of assumed it was someone’s roommate waiting to get dinner after, or the boyfriend Teddy mentioned. But the third Thursday, Teddy’s walking off hand in hand with some dark-haired dude, and the kid is still in the bleachers, flipping through a textbook, alone.

Five Thursdays in, the kid is still there, and David’s curiosity gets the best of him.

“Hey, bro,” he says, and the kid startles, knocking his bag off of the bleacher. “You waiting for someone?

“Uh,” the kid says, ducking to pick up his shit. “No. I, uh. Have a physics lab at six. And my apartment’s pretty far, so I’m just...killing time, I guess?”

David frowns, confused. “The library’s open all night, dude.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I used to play lacrosse.”

“Oh. Cool,” David says. “That...doesn’t make sense at all, dude.”

He shrugs a little, grabbing his bag and standing up. “Yeah. It really doesn’t,” he mumbles. “I’m just gonna, uh. Get to my lab.”

He leaves. David shakes his head, and turns back to the field to go pack up his gear, nodding at Teddy, who’s still there grabbing his own bag.

“Dude, isn’t that Victor Stein’s kid?” Teddy asks, frowning.

“The Nemo guy? No, man, I thought he got arrested for kidnapping or whatever. It was a wholeass thing.”

“Nah, him and a bunch of other kids said they were framed. There’s, like, a whole podcast about it. All these rich people in LA’s kids ran away after getting framed for murder and kidnapping, and there’s this theory the parents were in a cult or some shit.”

“That’s fucked up,” David said, interestedly. “Send me the link.”

“Sure,” Teddy shrugs. “What was Stein doing here, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Said he was studying.”

“At a lacrosse practice? Weird.”

“Fucking weird,” David agrees.

**The PRIDE Before the Fall  
** A Rising Tide Production

★★★★½ (10,687 ratings)

Six of Los Angeles’ wealthiest, most philanthropic families. A plethora of murders. Dirty cops. Dirty cops who were found murdered in restaurant freezers. Runaway trust-funders. Hosts Daisy Johnson and Quentin Quire explore the powerhouse charity organization Pride and their connections to a spiralling criminal conspiracy spanning, potentially, over a decade.

Season 1 Episodes:

101 - The (Accidental?) Campus Fire

102 - I Think Destiny Gonzales Joined a Cult

103 - Sins of the Fathers (and Mothers)

104 - Surprise, the LAPD is Dirty AF

105 - Oh They’re Exploiting Racist Stereotypes Now

106 - The Fall of the Tech Empires #RIPCapitalism

“Oh, shit, is that Gert’s boyfriend?”

Cassie barely looks up from her Teen Vogue, eyes drifting toward where Kate’s nodding at the counter. Sure enough, Betty’s roommate’s at the counter, grabbing a latte, cute boy by her side. Cassie nods a little in approval. She’s not really into dudes, but she can see the appeal.

“Maybe? I’ve never seen him.”

“Yeah, because we never see Gert,” Kate says. Cassie shrugs, turning back to her magazine.

“I’m sending a pic to Bets,” Kate says, determinedly. She picks up her phone in what she definitely thinks is a surreptitious movement. It’s not. Cassie sighs, stretching and putting her feet in Kate’s lap and letting her go at it.

“Oh, false alarm,” Kate says, a moment later. “Betty says Gert’s bf is white.”

“Please,” Cassie says, pain-stakingly, “Do not say _bf_ like it’s a _word_.”

At the counter, Gert and Not-Her-BF have been joined by a short, cute blonde girl, who laces her fingers with the boy’s.

“Holy shit, she has _friends_. Like, multiple!” Kate mutters. Cassie nudges her thigh softly, because she doesn’t think Kate _knows_ that was kind of rude. “I’m gonna wave them over.”

She does, and Cassie sighs, setting down her magazine. The cult expose will have to wait.

Gert looks sort of wary when she comes over; Cassie gives Kate another gentle kick.

“Hey, guys,” Gert says. “Sorry for ducking out the other night—”

“No worries,” Cassie shrugs. “Migraines are gnarly.”

“Yeah, totally,” Gert says, quickly. She seems to notice Kate eyeing her friends with interest, and turns a little, gesturing toward them. “Oh, um. This is Tandy, and that’s Tyrone. They’re visiting for the weekend.”

“Oh, cool,” Cassie says. “I’m Cassie, and this idiot is Kate. Do you go to school nearby?”

“Sure,” Tandy says, at the same time that Tyrone says “No.”

Cassie and Kate raise their eyebrows in unison. Gert’s face scrunches up into an expression that roughly translates into _oh my GOD_.

“We’re taking a gap year. And then we’re going to school nearby. New Hampshire,” Tandy says. “That’s a thing, right?”

Gert stares, shaking her head a little. “New Hampshire? Yeah, Tandy, New Hampshire’s a thing.”

“Is it, though?” Kate says.

“Gap years are a thing,” Cassie cuts in, smiling reassuringly. “Gert, didn’t you take a gap year? I feel like you said that at orientation?”

“Sort of, yeah,” she says, shifting a little. It’s sort of awkwardly quiet for a bit, and then Gert turns back to her friends. “We should, um. We should head out, we’re supposed to meet up with Chase soon. Good to see you guys, though!”

She practically drags Tyrone and Tandy off, latte sloshing a little as she goes. As they leave, Cassie can hears Tandy mutter _was that Karolina in that girl’s magazine?_

“Well, that was fucking bizzare,” Kate says, cheerfully. “I think I love them.”

**Excerpt from Teen Vogue, Oct/Nov 2019**

The Not-So Spiritual Life of Karolina Dean

Reporting by Gwen Stacy

In the fall of 2017, Karolina Dean was a high school senior doubling as the high-profile Gen Z face of the Church of Gibborim, started by her grandfather David Ellerh decades before she was born.

By November, she was a prime suspect in a murder and kidnapping case.

That’s lurid enough. But a closer look at the charges against Dean, and the subsequent dropping of charges just over a week later, reveal a tangled trail that leads back to the newly resurgent Church of Gibborim.

Ned has a dude crush on the guy from physics.

MJ says he can’t say that because it sounds sort of no homo. Which is fair. It’s totally fair.

He usually sits in front of Ned in class. He doesn’t really talk much, unless the professor calls on him, but he’s usually right when he does. Which isn’t that big of a deal, because it’s MIT and everyone whose dad didn’t buy a building to get them in is smart as fuck. But he spends half of class drawing specs for this insane sci-fi kind of shit on his tablet, and Ned either wants to talk to him about it, or ask if he wants to marathon Battlestar Galactica.

(Also, objectively, he _is_ pretty great to look at, in a generic hot white boy kind of way, so maybe it is a little yes homo. Ned’s okay with that.)

And he’s currently on the aforementioned tablet one library table away from Ned’s study group.

“Dude,” Peter says, kicking him under the table. “You’re practically drooling.”

“Just ask if he wants to study with us,” MJ says, not looking up from her laptop. “He doesn’t have to know you’re stalking him.”

“I’m not _stalking_ him,” Ned glares. “It’s not kindergarten, I can’t just hand him Hot Wheels and ask if he wants to be friends. He’s, like. Cool.”

“He’s sitting by himself,” MJ says, rolling her eyes. “He’s not cool, he’s just hot. And cool’s an arbitrary value judgement.”

“So is hot,” Peter says, slapping MJ’s palm when she holds her hand up for an approving high five. He pushes his chair back a little, leaning out toward the other table. “Hey, Chase. Wanna come study with us? This problem set is kind of killer.”

Ned steps on Peter’s foot under the table. Chase blinks for a moment.

“Um. Yeah, sure,” he says, gathering his stuff.

Ned does Not look at Peter or MJ.

Chase turns out to kind of be a nerd, which is awesome. They’re arguing over formulas while MJ interjects with something to stir shit every once in a while. Ned’s working up the courage to ask about the weird design specs when his phone dings with an alert.

“Oh, shit. We should take a study break,” he says, pushing away his books. “That Nemo comeback presentation is about to start.”

Chase makes a weird face. Peter clutches at his flashcards, frowning.

“Since when do you care about cars?” Peter asks.

"It's not just _cars_. It's sustainable energy. It's fucking revolutionary."

“Dude, if you need some alone time, we can leave,” MJ says. This time, Peter holds his hand up for the high five, and she slaps it without looking.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s their first announcement since, like 2017. We’ll see who’s laughing when they announce hovercrafts.”

“There's no way they're anywhere near hovercrafts, he can't even get a hybrid battery to hold the target charge consistently for over a year," Chase mutters.

“Victor Stein's a privileged tool who’s built a brand around funneling his resources into vanity projects and photo ops at Kenyan orphanages," MJ says. “No offense, Chase.”

Ned stares at her in confusion. Chase shrugs, closing his textbook.

“Trust me, none taken,” he mumbles. “I should go. I have to….feed my cat. See you in class.”

“What,” Ned asks, after Chase is out of ear shot, “Just happened?”

“Daddy issues?” MJ shrugs.

Ned blinks. MJ raises her eyebrows. Peter groans.

“Dude, you’re the worst stalker,” Peter says. “That’s Chase _Stein_.”

“Oh,” Ned says. “Oh, shit.”

"Do you think we're bad at college?" Gert asks, the words both idle and mumbled as she licks the hot cheeto dust off her fingers. Chase looks up from the bag he'd grabbed from her clutches mere moments ago, frowning.

"I mean, I could have done better on my calc test, but—"

"No," Gert says, shaking her head. "Not like. _College_ , college. Like. College _life_."

Chase stares at her, blankly. She sighs and shifts on the couch to face him, cross-legged, taking her cheetos back, popping a few in her mouth.

“Your roommate is my dinosaur,” she says, pointedly. “You picked this apartment so we’d be closer to each other. I’m in the dorms, but I’m here, like, every other night, because we have trauma-induced codependency issues—”

“Also, because we love each other.”

“Obviously,” Gert says, waving a hand dismissively. Chase tries to keep his grin in check as she takes a deep breath, gearing up to get to her point.

"You know how I told you my therapist said I spent so much time thinking about college when we were runaways because I wanted some part of my normal future to exist and that helped me cope?" she says, biting her lip. "I think I was doing that about living in the dorms."

"Hey," he says, softly. "You're in college. You got here. Maybe it was a coping mechanism then, but you still did it."

"Yeah, but I did it all a year later, and I had to graduate with online classes, and none of it really happened the way I always pictured it. I’m not upset about it. But I know what I missed." She shifts to lie down on the couch, flopping back across Chase's lap. "I didn't _like_ high school, you know? I just always figured I'd get through it, because it wasn't _for_ me, it was for—"

"People like me?" Chase says, wryly. Gert wrinkles her nose, poking him in the thigh.

"Yeah. People like who you used to be," she shrugs. "And college would be better. And it is, but everything that happened to us made me a whole different person, and everything I wanted is what old Gert wanted, and I don't know if new Gert fits in that. It’s like I don’t know how to be around other people our age anymore. I don’t know how to want the things I used to want from all of this. But I _want_ to want it. Does that make sense?”

Chase nods, slowly.

“I think that’s why I didn’t really want to live in the dorms,” he says, playing with her hair idly. “I just wanted to go to college to get away from my dad. Or not disappoint my dad. Both, I guess.”

“Chase,” she says, softly. He runs a hand through her hair, shaking his head a little as he smiles.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I just mean...I would have been the same person I was in high school, with the same kind of friends. And I’m good not getting, like. Hazed by a frat, or whatever.

“But,” she prods, gently. He sighs, but he can’t help smiling a little. It feels kind of good to have someone who knows there’s a _but_.

“Sometimes I go watch the lacrosse team practice,” he says, quietly. “It’s not like I wish I was on the team. I can’t really picture being on a lacrosse team now. But that was, like. The only thing I did. I don’t know what else I like.”

“Yes, you do,” she says, gently. “You re-engineered an RV from scratch for fun over the summer. And you invented a whole superpower in high school, dummy.”

“Some kids from my classes asked me to study with them the other day,” he says, quietly. “And it was almost like hanging out with Alex—”

“Nerd arguing,” Gert adds, helpfully. Chase rolls his eyes.

“And then one of them wanted to watch my dad’s work thing,” he says. He shakes his head a little when Gert frowns. “I’m fine, it’s just like….our shit is everywhere.”

“Yeah,” she says, biting her lip. “There’s a Teen Vogue expose on the Gibs. And my roommate’s super into true crime, it’s only a matter of time before she finds that fucking podcast.”

“Alex says it’s pretty good, actually, for not knowing about any of the alien and hell witch shit,” he says. Gert rolls her eyes and shoves a cheeto into his mouth.

“Sometimes I think I should just move in here now instead of waiting until next year,” she says, after a moment. “Because I like being here, with you and with Old Lace, but I still want to be—”

“Normal. Yeah. I get it,” he says, biting his lip. “Sometimes I think I’m afraid of screwing it up. Like I don’t know how to do the whole school thing anymore, because I’m not the same person I was.”

“You’re not. None of us are.” She sits up, turning to sit cross-legged, facing him. “I think it’s okay if you’re still figuring out who you are, Chase.”

She says it so gently. He laces their fingers together, and brings their hands up to brush his lips across her knuckles. She blushes when she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah. I think it’s okay if there are different sides of you,” he says. “You don’t have to pick between College Gert and Runaway Gert. Yeah, it’ll probably be messy. But you’re both of them.”

“I like that,” she says, quietly. “You should try hanging out with those kids from class again. Maybe I can come with you? When I ran into those girls from my dorm with Tandy and Ty, it got weird, but at least I wasn’t the only one being weird.”

“I like the idea of being weird together,” he grins. “And I think you’ll like them. MJ called my dad a privileged tool.”

“Tell MJ I want to hang out _immediately_.”

**Author's Note:**

> please feel free to come yell at me about future gertchase or prompt me or whatever on [tumblr](https://yorkesteins.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/tracingaladder).


End file.
